Love Triangle
by Eyes Behind the Mask
Summary: In an alternate time line where Jason Voorhees is never murdered by Tommy Jarvis and remains human, he once again meets his favorite girl, Chris Higgins, when her new husband surprises her with a trip into the wilderness for their honeymoon, beginning a whole new chapter of rape and murder in her life.
1. Chapter 1

1987

Chris watched the trees whipping by the car window with a faraway look in her eyes. It almost seemed as if they were traveling at the speed of sound, although in reality the Datsun couldn't be doing more than 55. Peter was an extremely conscientious driver, and wouldn't dream of speeding, no matter how much of a hurry he was in. Her eyes flickered down to the thin gold band on her left hand, and a smile absently came to her lips. For a long time she thought she would never smile ever again, and in truth never wanted to but the passage time had a way of blunting even the sharpest of trauma. It had certainly taken some time, but somehow managed to pick the pieces up and put them back together into a semblance of normal life. Anyone who had seen her that night in the back of a squad car shrieking like a woman possessed would never recognize her now.

Even when she looked into the mirror herself, Chris hardly could either. She'd faltered along for a while, but slowly she'd began to put the worst of it behind her. No more hospital. No more psychiatrist. Actually wanting to wake up in the mornings. A desire to move forward. A cross-country move. Meeting Peter. Falling in love. And now this.

The radio began to play "Nights in White Satin", bringing her out of her reverie. Peter's eyes crinkled as he smiled over at her. "Appropriate, don't you think? Given the occasion?"

"Very appropriate." She replied, her lips curving playfully. "So, when are you going to tell me where we are going? I can't take the suspense anymore. What do you have up your sleeve?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Chris, you know that."

She gave the tiniest flinch in response, but Peter's eyes were once again trained on the road ahead, only occasionally straying to check the mirrors.

She'd never told him about that awful night. After she'd been released from the hospital she never breathed a word to anyone about the fear, the blood, and the agony. Her friend's names and faces were something that she spent her days trying to forget, although they returned every night as large as life, their dead eyes leveled on her accusingly, and their mouths gaping, silently cursing her for inviting them along to that cursed house to meet their doom at the cruel blade of a maniac. After all, she'd known what lurked in those woods once upon a time (and it really almost seemed like something from a dark fairytale now) and she'd been foolish enough to think that returning would somehow be a good idea, that it would give her closure. That it would show that she was not afraid anymore.

The silence, and her thoughts weighed heavily on her. Desperate to push those awful thoughts away and focus on her new life that she'd worked and fought so hard for and had taken the first step to traveling with Peter earlier today, she forced a laugh. If Peter had not been distracted with the road and his own thoughts, he would have noticed how strained it sounded.

"C'mon Peter, just give me one hint!" She took a deep breath and gave him the most natural smile she could muster.

"Now Chris, what would be the fun in that?" Peter replied. "I really think you'll love it though. The place is just beautiful."

Playfully pouting, which he did see, causing him to smile, and she leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. And as she thought more about Peter, about being with him, about the role he'd unknowingly played in helping her move forward, the less she thought about what did lurk in those woods and how it'd forever changed her life. She didn't want those bad thoughts and memories to ruin things with Peter, but she couldn't help it when they invaded her mind, as they always seemed to eventually.

Looking up at the sky through the windshield momentarily, Peter said, "It looks like it might rain soon. If it does, I just hope it stops before we get there."

Chris barely heard him though. Having gotten lost in her mix of thoughts, in addition to feeling safe and comfortable, especially with Peter there, she began to fall asleep. The last thing she heard before she was completely out was the sound of raindrops landing on their vehicle.

The dream she proceeded to have wasn't a pleasant one. One of the worst she'd had in a while, in fact. The man from the woods was there, of course, the hockey mask hiding that deformed face of his. He was chasing her through those woods, his woods. In the distance, she could hear people calling her name. At first, she wasn't sure who the voices belonged to. It wasn't her parents voices though and eventually, they got clearer and she recognized them: the voices of her friends. Her dead friends. Rick. Debbie. Andy. Vera. Chili. Chuck. Even Shelly. She saw someone up ahead of her, standing with their back to her, and she stopped when she reached them.

"Help me! He's chasing me!" she shouted. "Please!"

The figure slowly turned around and she realized that it was Rick, a dark, bloody hole where his eye had once been.

"You let him kill me, Chris," he accused, his voice distorted. "You let him kill all of us."

She was about to plead with him and try to explain that she didn't mean for them to get killed when she heard footsteps behind her. Spinning around, she found the man in the hockey mask standing directly behind her.

"Chris!" he said, except it wasn't the voice she'd expected. "Chris, wake up!"

Her eyes snapping open, she sat up in her seat and looked over at Peter. It had been his voice.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. "It sounded like you were having a bad dream."

"Yeah, I was," she replied rather shortly. "I'm fine now."

"Well, we're almost there anyway," Peter said, once again ignorant to the signs that she was giving off that she wasn't just 'fine'.

Looking around, trying to shake the fresh feeling of dread that had washed over her thanks to the dream, Chris took a look around at their surroundings. There were lots of trees. She knew that wouldn't help her mind at all. She saw that they were approaching a small, wooden bridge. A bridge that looked awfully familiar. Her breathing got heavier as she began to panic. It couldn't be. Of all the places in the world that Peter could have chosen to take her to, it couldn't be. But it was. When she saw the house, she knew it was: Higgins Haven. Though it was no longer called that, her parents having sold it after last time, it was still the same place to her.

Peter didn't notice how she was reacting, distracted by the scenery, a big smile on his face.

"This is it! What do you think?" he asked her, looking over at her, his smile disappearing when he saw the look on her face. "Chris? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He immediately brought the car to a stop and that was when she began to scream. He quickly got out of the car and started to run around to her side, but before he could reach it, she opened her door herself and ran as fast she could, away from the car, Peter, and especially the house.

Utterly baffled with his brides behavior, it was all he could do to stand there gaping after her. What had gotten into her? He turned to the innocuous appearing house as if it held the answer somehow but the house bore the demeanor of a mute witness, tight-lipped yet knowing. What could possibly have upset her so much about a house that she had never set eyes upon before?

"Chris?! Chris, Wait!" He called after her as she disappeared into the thick trees that surrounded the property like a gathering storm. "Come back Chris, what are you doing?! Chris!" Peter broke into a run towards the dark, foreboding silent woods, praying he would catch up with her sooner than later. He'd never seen her like this before, and while confusion was his main companion it was soon joined by a sense of dread as the canopy above him seemed to utterly swallow the moonlight and leave him in darkness.

Chris was nowhere in sight, and the woods were as quiet as the grave. He scanned the shadows feverishly hoping to spot her light pink cardigan, or a flash of light brown hair somewhere in the gloom. It was as if the woods had swallowed her as efficiently as it had extinguished the silvery light above. Peter was utterly unfamiliar with the property that his parents had purchased as a vacation home for little more than a song six months earlier. He'd never set foot there before that night. He'd only seen pictures of the property before and after it's renovation, his father being very proud of both the low price he'd paid for what promised to be a prime piece of lakefront property and of the remodeling that he'd completed on his own without bringing in any outside contractors.

Truthfully the place had sunk to the back of his mind before his mother had suggested bringing Chris here for their honeymoon. He'd agreed of course, the latest pictures from his father's pet project looked like a small slice of heaven and just the sort of place he'd like to share with Chris. While Peter was a lifelong city dweller he cherished the great outdoors, and wished to share that with Chris who claimed to have never been further than five minutes from the bright city lights and satisfied with that. While she seemed to be utterly content with her patch of concrete jungle, there was something about her that suggested that she was more in touch with nature than she claimed to be. Peter had thought that surprising her with this outing would bring some of what he'd sensed to the surface.

He sure as hell wasn't expecting this, though!

* * *

Chris' legs carried her through the woods, almost as if they were moving with a mind of their own. She wasn't sure how far she'd run, but Peter's voice had quickly faded. Her thoughts of him had faded too. Forced to the back of her mind was more like it actually, replaced in full by every single terrifying thought that had ever entered her head in relation to that place. She just wanted out. Out of those woods for good. She thought she had gotten out for good before, when all of her old friends had been slaughtered by the madman, but now she was back again anyway. It was like an unending nightmare.

She hoped that she still remembered the woods as well as she thought she did. She used to know them like the back of her hand. That knowledge had proven itself useful for her in the past. Like the night she hid in the woods from her parents. The night she first met him, the man who haunted her mind whether she was awake or asleep.

Feeling herself begin to slip in the mud, she slowed down for a moment, coming to a complete stop. It had stopped raining. She'd completely forgotten it had rained earlier until just then. She had stopped screaming too, though she wasn't sure when. Catching her breath, the cool night air burning her throat slightly, she took a quick look around. Other than the sounds of insects, it was quiet.

Pretty sure that she knew which way to go, to get out of the woods, Chris started running again. She didn't run much further though, because she thought she saw movement in the woods ahead of her. She wanted to believe that it was just an animal or the moonlight and shadows tricking her eyes. She desperately wanted to believe that it was anything but him. Then she saw more movement, something coming towards her. As it moved into the moonlight peeking through the trees, her worst fears were confirmed. The moonlight striking the hockey mask was all she needed to see.

Backing away, she blinked a few times, just to be sure. He was getting even closer. That was when she began screaming again. This only made him walk faster, definitely headed towards her. She spun around and tried to run again, but it was too late. She felt a hand on her shoulder, his large hand, which grabbed her tightly, his fingers painfully digging into her flesh. And before he could do anything else, she fainted, falling to the ground in front of him.

* * *

Meanwhile, Peter continued calling Chris' name as he moved. He felt lost though. She could have gone in any direction and it being dark didn't help at all. He still couldn't wrap his head around why she'd run off screaming like she had. Something had obviously frightened her, but he couldn't understand what it might have been at all. He just wanted to find her though. The 'whys' could wait.

"Chris!" he yelled for what felt like the thousandth time in just the past few minutes, and that was when he heard her screams again.

Immediately, he changed his course of direction and ran in what he hoped was the correct direction. It sounded like she was nearby, but he wasn't sure. He continued calling her name, even when her screams stopped again. He wasn't about to give up on looking for her, especially not when he was so close. Then he saw the man crouched down next to her body, his hand gently squeezing one of her tits through her cardigan.

"Hey!" he shouted at the man. "You get the hell away from her!"

He then charged at the man, hoping that he hadn't done worse to Chris than grope her. The man had stood back up when Peter had shouted at him and he watched as Peter slipped in the mud, similar to how Chris had before, except Peter wasn't able to stop himself and his legs slipped out from under him, causing him to fall backwards and crack his head on the big root of an old tree. It didn't knock him out, but he was unable to get back up, his head spinning with sharp pain.

Jason took that opportunity to walk over to Peter, who had rolled over on his knees as he grabbed at his head, the back of his clothes completely coated in mud. Reaching down, Jason wrapped a hand around Peter's throat and yanked him backwards into another tree, his head taking more taking more damage as it bounced into the tree, leaving some blood behind where his head struck it. Jason's grip tighten around Peter's throat, making it impossible for him to breath. Jason then yanked Peter one more time, in the direction of another tree, but instead of his head smacking it, the sharp stump of a broken branch pierced the back of his head, the end popping out of Peter's mouth in splash of blood. Jason finally released Peter's throat, not that it mattered anymore, his feet dangling a couple feet above the ground.

Jason took a step back to survey his handiwork as Peter gave a few final twitches before finally going limp, a wet stain spreading slowly over the fabric of his jeans. Blood was steadily oozing it's way down the length of the hanging body to eventually puddle on the ground below. The still open blue eyes were beginning to take on a glassy look that Jason was all too familiar with. He didn't know who this man who'd interrupted him was, and truthfully he didn't really care either. He'd come here with the girl, and that was more than enough to seal his fate. While Jason might have normally spent a little more time admiring what had been a rather good job in his opinion, he had more urgent matters to attend to.

That Chris girl stirred slightly, a weak groan escaping her lips that sounded for the world like that last ounce of air exiting the dead man's body. He considered her for a long moment, before moving in to wrench her up by one languid arm and hoist her up like a sack of potatoes. His left eye settled on the slim gold band encircling her fourth finger, and he paused, considering this as well. Slowly he turned his head back towards the man hanging from the now crimson broken branch, and for a very long moment he remained still, Chris still half dangling almost bonelessly in his grip. Then he lowered her back to the ground, straightened up and strode over to the tree.

Reaching out with huge, dirty hands he grasped the man's arms and planted a foot on the tree. With a quick, brutal motion he yanked the body free with a protesting crack from both bone and branch. He let the body fall, and turned his attention back to Chris, scooping her up and flinging her over a broad shoulder before grasping a handful of the man's thick dark hair almost as an afterthought and dragging him along as Jason began making his way back towards the Haven.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes snapping open, Chris had no idea how much time had passed since she'd blacked out, though through a nearby window, she could see that it was still nighttime, and at first, she wasn't even sure where she was. She soon figured that out. The furniture was different, but having spent more than half of her life there, she'd never be able to forget what the inside of the house located at Higgins Haven looked like.

For some reason, she was naked, except for her socks and shoes, and her arms were tied behind her back, the rope tight and digging into her wrists. And that smell, what on Earth could that be? It smelled like a sewer almost. Frantically looking around as the stench invaded her nostrils, causing her to cringe, and she happened to look above her, only to find Peter's body, nailed to the wall with a pitchfork, blood crusted around his mouth, a jagged hole in the back of his lifeless head, though she couldn't see the latter from her position on the floor. However, she could make out the stain on the front of his jeans from where he had soiled himself upon death. She'd wonder if she was dreaming again if the smell wasn't so overpowering.

Chris began to tremble and cry as the reality of the situation truly settled in. She was back at the place she'd fought so hard to get away from physically, and afterward, mentally, and now another person in her life was dead. Murdered by the same man who'd murdered all of her other friends before. It seemed like she was destined to never have happiness nor peacefulness in her life, because whenever she found it, that man in the woods just found a way to destroy it again.

"I'm sorry, Peter," she said to his corpse, tears flowing down her cheeks, the thoughts of her happy life with him just causing more tears. He had been good for her, good in ways he never knew.

She needed to stand up, before that man came back for her. As she moved her legs about, she realized that there was a certain moistness between them and it didn't feel like sweat. She shuddered at the thought of what that man might have done to her while she'd been unconscious.

Chris didn't realize that Jason had been watching her the entire time, from a darkened hallway on the other side of the room. When she started trying to stand up, he snapped out of the daze he'd been in and stepped out of the shadows, walking towards her.

"Oh god!" she shouted. "What do you want from me?!"

He didn't respond, of course. When he reached her, he placed one hand on her shoulder, forcing her back onto the floor. Getting down on his knees, he then grabbed at one of her exposed boobs, his fingers pushing hard into her flesh, causing her to yell out in both pain and surprise.

"Please, just leave me alone!" she pleaded, not wanting him to touch her anymore than he already had. He had no right to touch her, yet he'd managed to do so before and he was doing so yet again.

At that, he let go of her boob, the flesh having turned red from his grip. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes seemingly looking into her soul from behind his hockey mask, before suddenly slapping her across the face, leaving behind a red hand print.

Chris began crying even harder, scared of how much worse it could get from there, and she didn't stop when Jason touched her boob again, only that time, he was gentler. He didn't grab at it like it was an animal he intended to eat, though she thought he probably still didn't see her as much more than that. He used his fingers to lightly rub her nipple and for a moment, she forgot to cry, as the pleasure of his touch began coursing through her, temporarily overriding her physical and mental anguish. In fact, she let out a moan, followed by a couple more. Realizing that she was enjoying this, he moved his free hand to her other boob and began to play with it too, rubbing and lightly pinching at her nipples, making them stiff, occasionally grabbing at her boobs themselves some more, but also doing so lightly.

She closed her wet eyes as he continued his massage of her boobs, her tense body relaxing, almost completely losing herself in pleasure. She could feel her pussy getting more moist, wanting attention of its own. The part of her that wasn't lost in pleasure kept yelling in her head that it was wrong, that she was enjoying the touch of the man who was seemingly intent on murdering everyone she ever even tried to care about. She didn't want him to stop though, because somehow, it brought her out of the hellish place she'd started to sink back into in her head.

She felt him withdraw those massive paws from her breast and opened one eye cautiously, equally afraid that he was either about to wrap them around her throat, or reach for some hidden, sharp object. Neither came to fruition however, and instead those hands that could easily crush her skull now ghosted over her brow, and his scarred fingers settled on the soft pillow of her lower lip. The scent of dirt and copper invaded her nose, and she twitched as that finger played along her lip.

His breath was quickening, and his roaming hands began to map out even more territory. It was all Chris could do to remain silent as those hands grazed over sharp peaks and onward to the valley. It all felt so eerily familiar, this infernally slow exploration of her flesh. She cringed slightly as his finger grazed a particularly sensitive spot, earning a quizzical look from behind the battered white plastic. Chris felt she would die with shame as he stroked that spot again, more deliberately this time, wrenching a cry from her lips. She could feel the blood rushing and pooling, could feel the hardness pressing against her thigh as he continued his assault on her senses.

It would be bad enough to be taken by this monster, but did her body have to be so traitorous? She steeled herself against his curious probing, lips tightly pressed to choke back the moan that welled in her throat. He was utterly distasteful to her in every way, a filthy, blood thirsty creature that had killed her friends and sullied her flesh in the quiet darkness of the woods that night so long ago. Even if she were by some twisted logic able to overlook the murder of her friends three years ago, and Peter this very evening nothing about him appealed to her at all. So how was it her body was beginning to respond to his advances?

A finger dipped into her, and it was all she could do to stifle a scream. Another soon joined in with the exploration, and Chris bit her lip with the shame of it all. She was growing wet, she could feel the moisture easing the friction, and although it was a balm for her abused parts, the knowledge that this thing could draw such a response from her body made her want to cry with shame. The fingers drove deeper, bumping against yet another sensitive spot and he was rewarded with a howl of pain from the girl bound on the floor. Or was it pleasure? Chris didn't know anymore, and she felt she was drowning.

He withdrew, and she could hear him fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Oh god, no.

She felt trapped in her own skin, forced to return to the memories she'd locked away for so long. That night, that awful night he'd chanced upon her in those woods. Now here he was, drawing flashes of long forgotten sensation from her as her mind relived those woods, and him. The crushing weight, the way she'd plead, screamed and finally only shuddered under his touch much as she was doing now. The ugly thought that he would one day return, the fear she'd long harbored in the back of her mind had become terrifying reality.

Now he began to grind against her more insistently, that hardness prodding against her insatiably. Another jolt of unexpected sensation shot through her, and she lost it. Chris struggled to collect herself, cursing herself for being so damned weak as to cry in front of him. She bit her lip harder, furious with him, with the situation, and herself. The coppery scent of blood and dirt mixed with effluvia continued to assail her senses until she felt like she was going to pass out. She could feel one of those massive hands moving to clamp down on her thigh with a bruising grip, and wrench her legs open with ease.

Chris whimpered, struggling to sit up and draw them back together only for him to reach out and slam her backwards while yanking upwards on one pale leg, leaving her flat on her back. She felt a wet squish as her head collided with the ground, and looked up to realize she had landed in the small puddle of blood that had formed below Peter's mangled corpse. Feeling it seep through her hair and onto her scalp she screamed and began kicking and thrashing at the masked man holding onto her leg.

Clearly irritated at her interruption, he let go of her leg and instead reached for her shoulders, almost casually batting away the fists that pounded at him. He clamped down on her shoulders and gave her a more decisive smack against the floor, followed by another one until her kicking and clawing ceased. Her head pounding now and the fight knocked out of her she could do little more than murmur pleadingly as he worked her legs open without any resistance this time.

Through a fog of pain she could feel him prodding her like a piece of underdone steak, almost like a small, very disturbed child might poke a dead animal with a stick. She could feel his calloused, dirty fingers drawing closer to her ass, and she moaned in despair.

"No, no, please, no", she whimpered, knowing that it wouldn't really make a difference, but unable to just lie there silently as he invaded her most personal places. The thought of those disgustingly filthy fingers pressing against her made her shudder almost as much as the pain beginning to creep upwards. He paused for a moment, that eye boring into her like a rusty corkscrew as he almost seemed to be considering her plea.

Then he pushed a big finger into that puckered entrance, and as if a fire had been lit under her Chris jerked up and screamed before dropping back to the ground and sobbing as he drew the finger back only to experimentally push it in again even harder. Apparently not satisfied he forced another one in, drawing a yelping cry from Chris who by this point seemed incapable of forming words.

Chris squirmed and screamed as Jason's two fingers were forced further into her ass. He could feel her sphincter tightening around his fingers, the heat of her bowels quickly warming his frequently cold fingers. She could feel him stretching her anus, quite possibly ripping it, if the hot pain that was shooting through that area was any indication. Fresh tears forming, she then felt him slide his fingers out of her asshole, though the pain was still there.

He stared at what he'd done to her. Her puckered hole, now a bit red and raw looking from his unlubed exploration, wasn't quite so tight anymore. He watched as her sphincter involuntarily closed a few times, almost as if it was winking at him. She gave him a look of hatred as he continued peering at her ass. Hatred for his unending physical and mental torment of her.

Noticing his hand drifting back towards her sore hole, Chris was expecting him to try sticking his fingers into it again, but instead, he lightly rubbed around it with one finger, and though that didn't completely wash away the pain she was still feeling from his digging, it did cause her to let out a moan, which made her angry with herself again. Her sphincter twitched even more as he continued massaging the area around it. She bit her lip, trying to stifle any further moans.

Jason moved his other hand back up to her chest, grabbing at one of her breasts again, lightly squeezing it a few times. His squeezing quickly got more aggressive though, like it'd been when he first touched her breasts. Grabbing her nipple with a couple of his fingers, he began to twist it as he simultaneously reinserted his fingers into her anus, causing her to scream in more pain, thrashing her body around in an attempt to get away from him. This only caused him to twist her nipple even harder and ram his fingers up her ass even further.

Just when she thought the pain couldn't get any worse, she saw blood begin to pour out from the tip of her breast as her nipple began to rip. He decided to stop when he saw this, but the damage was done. Part of her nipple hung loosely from her breast, blood dripping steadily from the wound. He let her experience her pain for a moment without his touch. She was crying and moaning in pain, her upper body partially slumped over to one side.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Chris cried out at him.

Of course, Jason gave no response, showed no sign that he even heard her speak. He just looked at her, his hockey mask emotionless as ever. Without warning, he then grabbed both of her legs, prying them back apart, and dragged her close to him again. Using the two fingers he'd previously used in her ass, he dipped them into the blood running freely from her mutilated nipple before rubbing that same blood around her anus, painting it red. Going back for more blood, he then slipped just one finger back inside her asshole, slowly moving his finger back and forth, spreading the blood around the inside of her hot asshole. Getting even more blood, he once again put two fingers in her ass.

She could still feel the previous pain, but at the same time, it wasn't as bad, the blood actually helping some. That wasn't exactly a good thing though. Every time he managed to bring her pleasure, she knew that no matter how her body reacted, it wasn't what she really wanted. She would never want him. She didn't dare say that to him though.

Jason noticed the juices dripping from Chris' pussy as he continued to play with her anus, prompting him to slip his fingers out of that hole and into her pussy instead, getting a gasp out of her as he wriggled his fingers into her soaking slit. When his fingers were well coated in her juices, he took them back to her anus, finding that he had an even easier time getting back inside of it. He began to pick up the speed at which he was sliding his fingers into her, making her moan louder.

When he removed his fingers again, they came out of her asshole with a wet pop. He watched as her sphincter did its trick again, some of the blood mixed with her pussy juices beginning to ooze out of her widened hole, and to his amazement, a few bubbles then formed, quickly popping, from some of the air escaping her ass. The blood he'd previously rubbed on the outside of her anus had dried, but there was still plenty of blood coming from her nipple and her womanly juices were still flowing too.

The bulge in Jason's pants was still there, that bulge that he'd rubbed against Chris previously, and to her horror, he decided to finish opening his pants, exposing his cock. Compared to his face, his cock was actually pretty normal looking, but it was just as dirty as his hands, maybe even dirtier. He began to take more of her blood and juices, getting the entire palm of his hand coated in them, and he proceeded to coat his cock, using that same hand. As disgusted as she felt by the sight of his cock, she also felt ashamed for the jolt she felt within herself at the sight of his cock, the jolt of wanting to feel his cock inside of her.

When Jason felt that his cock had enough of her blood and pussy juices on it, he moved even closer to her, his filthy cock brushing against her.

"Please don't do this," Chris pleaded, continuing to cry.

She had no way to stop him though. Deep down, she knew that she wouldn't be able to reason with him and tied up, she was very limited in how she could defend herself against him physically. Feeling the tip of his cock press against her anus, she cringed and squirmed underneath him. And then there was a burning pain as his cock began to slide up her asshole, her blood and juices not nearly enough in the way of lube. She screamed and cried even louder as his cock slid further and further inside her, his meat stretching her bowels.

When Jason was as deep into Chris' ass as he could get he began to pull his cock back out some, before shoving it back in, repeating that movement with more force each time, imitating the many teens he'd witnessed making love in his woods, usually right before he murdered them. She clenched her eyes shut as his cock tore through her asshole, the pain constant, killing off what little pleasure she'd been feeling from his previous groping and poking, bringing her back to the memories of her previous encounters with him.

She could hear his breathing getting heavier behind the hockey mask as he thrust his cock into her harder and harder. He was completely ignoring her signs of pain, focused solely on himself. Then she felt a new warmth within her. He was cumming, continuing to rail her as he did, shooting deep into her bowels. It was at that point that she blacked out again. Between the pain and the shock that he of all people had just cum inside of her, it was too much for her.

Jason withdrew his cock from her ravaged asshole, a lot of the blood having rubbed off of his cock, and stared down at her unconscious body. Mother would disapprove of an act such as sex, but mother wasn't there and as much as he loved mother, every boy had to keep some things to themselves.

* * *

When Chris came to again, she found herself looking up at the sky, still nighttime. Realizing that her hands were no longer bound, she sat up and glanced around. She was outside, on the wet grass, the open front door of the cabin behind her. In the moonlight, she could see the marks on her wrists where the rope had been. She rubbed at them and began to cautiously stand up, cringing in pain as she did. Her anus was extremely sore, making it difficult to move her lower body at all without irritating it further. For some reason, though she had her guesses, her pussy was sore too. She could also see that her nipple had finally stopped bleeding.

Not knowing where the man in the hockey mask was and not wanting to find out when he'd be back for her, she started to run, still naked, away from the cabin to start with, trying to think of where she could go from there. She saw that Peter's car was still parked outside, but she had no idea where the keys were. It seemed possible that they were on his body and at that thought, she stopped and turned to look back at the cabin. If his body was still inside of the cabin, maybe she could run in really quick and search him. But what if the man in the hockey mask was still inside too?

After a moment of contemplating, she decided to risk it. Running back towards the cabin, she dashed through the front door and headed to Peter's body, keeping an eye out for her tormentor. She paused briefly when she saw Peter again, still stuck to the wall by the pitchfork, and now she could see the hole in the back of his head through his mouth. She placed a hand over her own mouth, feelings of sadness and guilt over inadvertently causing the death of another person she cared about filling her once more.

Wiping away several fresh tears that had rolled down her face, she stepped forward and started searching through the pockets of Peter's pants. She quickly ran out of pockets though and still had no keys. Where could they be? Did he leave them in the car after she'd freaked out and run away? If he'd dropped them outside somewhere, especially in the woods, she'd never be able to find them. She was about to leave when she heard heavy footsteps approaching her from behind her. Spinning around, she saw that he was back, cock back in pants, ax in hands.

With nowhere to run to, she quickly picked up a nearby chair and moved towards a nearby window, smashing the chair into the window, breaking the glass and framework. Quickly looking back, she saw that he was quickly walking towards her and she threw the chair in his direction, not hitting him with it, but she did cause him to stumble over it as landed on the floor in front of him, giving her just enough time to climb through the broken window. Being careful to not cut herself on any shards of glass, she was grateful that he had left her shoes on when she landed on the ground on the outside and heard a crunch beneath her feet. She screamed when one of his arms followed her through the window, but she was just out of his reach, his fingertips barely able to brush her skin.

Running again, Chris knew her options were limited. She highly doubted that she could escape from him on foot. Fighting him with a weapon wouldn't be easy either. She decided to trying checking the car to see if the keys were still in the ignition. As she moved, she felt something begin to ooze out of her anus and start dripping down one of her legs. Looking down, she was horrified to see that it was his sperm, mixed with ribbons of red from her blood. She'd have to worry about cleaning that up another time though.

She didn't get far, because as she turned a corner on the outside of the house, she saw him stepping out through the front door and he saw her too, snapping his head in her direction. She knew she wouldn't be able to get past him to the car.

She began running in the opposite direction instead, towards the barn. She had many bad memories associated with it too, deeply overshadowing the few good memories she had about it, like much of Higgins Haven. Helping her father with hay and other tasks in the barn. Spending time with Rick, alone, in the barn. The doors were already open and she didn't hesitate as she stepped inside, disappearing from his sight. It looked much like it had the last time she'd been inside there.

She quickly looked around for something, anything, that she could possibly use as a weapon against him. Before she knew it though, he was there, standing in the doorway of the dark barn, his large form only making it darker by blocking out the moonlight. Raising his ax, he proceeded to throw it at her. Chris' eyes were wide with terror as she watched it spin threw the air, narrowly missing her, the sharp blade getting stuck in a wooden support beam.

Jason stepped into the barn, not taking his eyes off of her, and slowly moved towards her. Frantic and desperate, she tried to dash towards the ladder leading up to the loft. He was faster than her and he grabbed her by one of her arms, getting a scream out of her as she swatted at him with her other arm. He was stronger than her too though and he simply swung her by her arm into the wall of the barn, her head cracking into the hard wooden wall, knocking her to the ground, dazed.

Not wasting any time, he then scooped her up with one of his arms and started to carry her back towards the doors of the barn. In her dazed state, she at first didn't realize that he stopped at the barn doors, nor that he was reaching up for something with his free arm. When he started to raise her up though, she saw exactly what he had reached for: a noose. She began swinging and kicking at him, trying to get free, but it was too late. He easily managed to get the noose around her neck and he held onto her for a couple seconds longer, their eyes locking.

"Please stop! Please! I'll do anything for you!" she screamed, pleading.

Jason would never know if Chris meant her last words though. No one would never know, because that was when he released her, her body falling for a few feet, still screaming, before the rope pulled tight, causing her to stop falling and stop screaming at the same time, the rope breaking her neck with a snap that echoed within the barn.

For several minutes, he simply stared at her body, her feet dangling a couple feet above the ground, the mixture of his cum and her blood continuing to drip down her leg. He then went to retrieve his ax, yanking it out of the wooden beam with one hard tug. He brought the ax back to where she was and then swung it high, but not at the rope. The blade struck her neck, easily slicing through her flesh and bone, her now lifeless body slipping out of the noose and collapsing to the ground with a thump, her head falling and rolling on the ground next to it. Blood began to seep out of the stump of her body's neck, forming a small puddle.

Lowering the ax, Jason picked up Chris' head, holding it out in front of him by her hair. Her eyes and mouth were still open as they had been right before her death. He then exited the barn and headed back into the woods, carrying her head with him. The police would eventually discover his latest murders, but as usual, they'd be unable to find him. After all, no one knew those woods like he did. And they'd only be able to wonder: what happened to Chris Higgins' head?


End file.
